


Big Iron

by nogitsune_lichen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (if Old West slang counts as dirty talk), Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Criminal Stiles Stilinski, Derek Is So Done, Dirty Talk, Hate Sex, M/M, Misunderstandings, Old West!AU, Overuse of Old Western Slang, Ranger Derek Hale, Snarky Banter, Stiles Stilinski is a Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:05:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogitsune_lichen/pseuds/nogitsune_lichen
Summary: The man was writhing on the mattress, head thrown back to expose the long column of his neck. Derek’s mouth went dry at the sight, his heart jackrabbiting against his ribs. In the dim light he could see the devilish grin on the man’s face.“Is that your big iron or are you just happy to see me?” Little Red teased, his laugh dissolving into moans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ENDGAME-STEREK IS SUCH A BABE! BABE OF THE YEAR! BESTIE 2k16 BECAUSE SHE HELPED ME WRITE THIS IN TWO DAYS AND THAT'S A TRUE CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!!!
> 
> NOTE: This is the first time I'm posting smut for real, so...if it's terrible I'm sorry?

It was early in the morning when he rode into the town of Agua Fria, a small thumbtack compared to the capital a day’s ride away on horseback. The trip had been long and the sun had been relentless, the day’s heat unbearable from dawn till dusk. 

 

So when his eyes had caught Agua Fria in the distance, despite it being a single road town, it resembled a bountiful gem. Beneath him was a fairly young appaloosa, her strong gallop propelling them closer to the town. The select few of the population that was out and about gave him owlish stares as he rode past.

 

Small shops and a single inn was passed before the local saloon came into view which was his first stop. Pulling the reigns to the left, Koda followed the direction and came to a halt in front of a hitching post. Derek swung himself off his saddle and landed with a booted “ _ thunk _ ”. After securing Koda, the horse all but inhaled the water in the trough below. He didn’t fault her though, if anything she deserved that and all the sugar cubes in the world for the travel he put her to. 

 

Derek made a grab for his gun and holster, securing it onto his belt. Making sure he had his badge and money he turned on his heel and made his way to the saloon. Soft music was playing, wafting from the thin glass panes and saloon doors. His heavy footsteps thudded against the ancient wood flooring and the hinges of the door squeaked eerily as he pushed past them. 

The moment he walked in it was all eyes on him. 

 

Due to years of the same old routine, whenever he ventured somewhere new he was numb to it as he walked towards the bar. Many drunkards and working girls eyed him as he passed. Derek focused on one of the empty barstools and sat down, taking a much needed load off.

 

The young man beside him with curly light brown hair immediately moved down a few stools, keeping his eyes cast down to his nearly empty glass.

 

“Lookin’ to wet your whistle?” 

 

This time it was Derek’s turn to look up. He was met with the deep chocolate eyes of a blonde woman. Her mouth was contorted into a hungry smile, her pearly whites almost enough to intimidate him. Roses were weaved into her large braid matching her skirt and tight corset -- _ which offered a little too much for a man’s eye if he said so himself _ . He almost had time to answer but instead an ebony skinned man behind the counter stepped over, his arm curling around the blonde protectively.

 

“What can I get you?” 

 

Derek wasn’t interested in the woman or the drink if he was honest, but he nodded anyways. Money was the language of the world so paying his dues first would probably offer him the best information. 

 

“Whiskey, on the rocks. Nothing on the back,” he ordered, pulling out what he assumed was the standard price for his order and set it across the counter. 

 

“Hmm, a high payer? Whatcha lookin’ for? I’m sure one of our gals can escort you to the inn just two hoots and a holler down the way,” the blonde spoke, taking the cash and shoving it straight into her plunging neckline. 

 

“I’m not looking for any lady, but you’re on the right track. I  _ am  _ looking for someone,” Derek nodded while accepting his drink from the bartender, taking a drag from it, letting the spicy liquid slither down his throat. His lips thinned as he breathed through it, setting the chilled glass down on a coaster.

 

The blonde arched a manicured eyebrow and gave him yet  _ another  _ once over -- _ and had the audacity to seem disappointed _ , “you lookin’ for the company of another fella? I ain’t sure we got any of  _ those  _ types around here.” 

 

“I’m looking for Little Red.”

 

The bartender who had served him the drink paused on his work of drying tumblers, the other saloon goers stopped their muddled conversations completely, and Derek downed the rest of his drink. 

 

“Who’s askin’?” The bartender asked, voice stone cold and collected.

 

Derek reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge, holding it up for all to see, “I am. Ranger Derek Hale of Beacon, California.” 

 

Just for good measure he moved his jacket slightly to expose the colt on his hip. The boy who had moved from his side just a moment ago took that as a sign to get the hell out of the saloon all together. While in any other case that would be a clear sign, Derek knew the face of Little Red. His boss as well as counties across the country have wanted posters of him, the kid who left didn’t have the face to match them. 

 

“We’ve seen him,” said the bartender, slinging the red and white striped cloth over his shoulder, “but he’s not a force to be reckoned with, hence why we ain’t turning him in.”

 

The blonde nodded, bracing herself on the counter with her elbows, “he’s come into the saloon a few times here and there, but only at noon and we never see where he goes off to.”

 

“Does he ever mention anything about himself?” Derek asked. 

 

“Nope,” the blonde huffed, “he talks a whole lotta somethin’ ‘bout a whole lotta nothin’. I swear he could talk the legs off a chair.” 

 

“More like he shoots his mouth off so much he must eat bullets for breakfast,” the bartender said, a hint of humor in his voice. 

 

The blonde laughed, “you’re preaching to the choir babe….anyhow, Ranger, that’s about all we know. Now skedaddle, you’re spookin’ our customers.”

 

Derek looked around and true to her word several of the folks from the once crowded saloon were gone. He looked back to the two behind the counter before nodding his head at them and taking a stand. Just because they lost a few customers he reached back into his pocket and left a tip on the counter.

 

Once outside and back in the blazing heat he watched the town around him. At this point the townspeople were in one of two mindsets. Either shaking in their boots or taking the ignorance is bliss saying to heart. It took a deep steadying breath and the mental reminder of “ _ the boss is paying big for Little Red _ ” for him to start walking around town in search of any clues. 

* * *

It took him till nightfall until he finally got a bone.

 

Currently he was walking out of the local Sheriff’s office, just having been chewed out for disrupting the community for a man who wasn’t even in town. However according to everyone else, they’ve either seen Little Red or heard rumor of him.

 

Something didn’t add up. 

 

He barely had his foot out of the door when a familiar face ran up to him; the bar stool kid.

 

“Uh, Ranger Hale?” The boy squeaked, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

 

“That would be me,” Derek nodded, shutting the door behind him before leaning against the column which supported the roof overhead. 

 

“Miss Erica and Boyd wanted me to tell you--”

 

“Who?” 

 

“The saloon owners, they wanted me to tell you...Little Red, he’s at the saloon.” 

 

That was enough to have Derek running down the road, the boy hot on his heels. The dust of the road was kicked up, sticking to his black pants and vest but it was all worth it if Little Red was really at the saloon. Another horse was tied up beside Koda, this one was a brown American Quarter horse with red reigns and a red saddle. 

 

Little Red was definitely here.

 

He didn’t take his time as he waltzed into the saloon; the door clattering loudly as he did so. He didn’t expect was the calmness that he walked into. Various people were seated at their tables, though Derek wasn’t an idiot. He could see the semi-tension they all held in their shoulders. The blonde, Erica, was currently wiping down a table and talking gingerly to the man standing beside her. Just beyond was the bartender, Boyd, who was glaring daggers at the man next to his girl.

 

“...and then I said--,” Erica recounted, but paused and looked over to him, “well look what the cat dragged in. Back for another round?”

 

Derek gnawed at the inside of his cheek, shrugging, “perhaps. A day out in the town has got me a little parched.” 

“Go ahead and take a seat at the bar, Boyd’ll take care of ya,” Erica said, gesturing with her rag in hand for him to go sit.

 

However it was never that easy. Little Red with a steel look in his gaze stopped that right in its tracks. 

 

“How about you join me for a drink, hombre a hombre,” Little Red offered, but his invitation sounded more like a demand than anything else. 

 

“Don’t you mean mano y mano?” Erica asked, face screwing up in confusion. 

 

“Mano y mano means hand in hand,” Derek said casually as he made his way over to the table, “he’s right. Hombre a hombre means man to man.”

 

Little Red gave an arched look, obviously impressed. The man turned to Erica, his face resorting back to it’s cold default and she bristled under his gaze. It was so vulnerable and so vastly different than the confident women he’d met earlier in the day. 

 

“Listen hussy, you got more curves than a barrel of snakes but not a lot goin’ up there,” Little Red sneered pointing to her head, “can you manage a Ginger and Gin...and whatever this fella wants?”

 

Derek watched three things happen all at once. Boyd began harshly making their drinks, Erica stopped off towards some back room and slammed the door, and Little Red sat down with a satisfied smirk and beckoned Derek to join him. 

 

Even though the boss wants Little Red preferably back alive, Derek wants nothing more than his colt putting a bullet between this…. _ kid’s _ eyes. That’s really what he is, a kid, probably in his early to mid-twenties. His brown hair that was spiked up into random tufts, his ivory skin that was spotted with a healthy smattering of beauty marks, and those doe eyes -- _ despite the icy look _ \-- were all the proof he needed. 

 

The youth wasn’t the only thing he took in about the man either; no it was those plush pink lips, those surprisingly broad shoulders, and his shirt that was unbuttoned just enough to tease.

 

Man he  _ really  _ needed his drink.

 

“Well you Sir, seem as friendly as a bramble bush,” Little Red rolled his eyes, clearly ticked that Derek opted to just sit and glare. 

 

“Forgive me, it’s not everyday a wanted criminal wants to sit and have a drink with me,” Derek said, leaning back in his chair just as Boyd came with the drinks. He set them down with haste and nearly spilled the contents out of the glasses. Unphased Little Red grabbed his and took a hearty gulp, wincing as it went down before speaking again. 

 

“So tell me... _ Ranger _ , you gonna break your arm patting yourself on the back for finding me? Gonna arrest me and take me back to wherever you’re from?” 

 

It was Derek’s turn to smirk but he did so reservedly and into the rim of his glass, “this isn’t my first rodeo, you’re not going to come with me that easily.”

 

“Has anyone ever told you than you are in fact a very smart man?” Little Red asked.

 

“Yes,” Derek deadpanned, not up for the antics that the man was giving out faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind. Derek had plenty of notches on his gun, he could already tell Little Red wasn’t going to be his typical cut and dry criminal bust. This was going to get interesting real quick.

 

“Well,” Little Red said coldly, leaning forward, his skinny fingers toying with his glass, “I’m about to be as serious as the business end of a .45, you’re gonna let me get out of your hair on to the next state or seven and you get to gallop home to boss man empty handed.” 

 

Derek narrowed his eyes, mouth turning downwards, “funny because if I’m not mistaken I saw a .41 in your holster on the way in.” 

 

“All this sweet talkin’ just might put you in an early grave,” Little Red shot back.

 

“A dead snake can still bite,” Derek mused, finishing his own whiskey. 

 

That really set the criminal off, a near murderous glare. It was the men with those kinds of looks who wouldn’t hesitate to steal the nickles off a dead man’s eyes. Little Red snarled and reared back out of his chair, its flimsy wood clattering to the ground. 

 

Derek mimicked the motion, unclasping the button on his holster and slipping out his gun the same time Little Red  _ and  _ Boyd did. 

 

“Y’all must be drunk as skunks if you thinkin’ about having a little showdown in my saloon,” Boyd yelled, nostrils flaring in anger. 

 

Even Erica came out of wherever she went, gun in hand too, and that had Little Red in a three to one. Derek smirked at the blonde, she’s so contrary to every other woman she floats up-stream.

 

“Alright Hale,” Little Red huffed, “I’m obviously outgunned...but if you ain’t all hat and no cattle how about we settle this like proper gentlemen. Tomorrow at noon, out on the main street.” 

 

“Tomorrow, noon, main street,” Derek repeated like a bible verse, his colt aimed at Little Red the whole time, even as he watched him go. If Derek payed more attention to the man’s body as he left that was for him to know. It wasn't until  they heard g alloping in the distance that all the raised guns dropped. 

 

The people brave enough to stick around returned to their drinks although shaken. Derek glanced to Erica and Boyd who looked like they’d seen a ghost. 

 

“I bet he thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow,” Boyd huffed and went to clean up the chair and drink mess Little Red had made. 

 

Erica crossed her arms as if trying to curl into herself, “you’re not really gonna face him tomorrow are you?” 

 

“I don’t trust him any farther than I can throw him,” Derek sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “I just have to believe he’ll be there.” 

 

Erica nodded slowly, “better get your rest then Ranger.”

* * *

 

“Alrighty pardner; go on down the hall, up the stairs, and turn left past yonder to get to your room,” the inn clerk said, turning tail into a back room as quickly as they could manage. 

 

Derek gripped the key in his hand, its cold brass heavy against his fingers. Silently he made his way down the hall and up the stairs, bypassing a few rooms before getting to his own. The key unlocked the door with a soft click, and he didn’t hesitate to enter. 

 

A small bed was set by the window, a lantern cast it’s dim light across the room and gave some warmth. Derek opted to ignore the stagnate dust smell and put his energy towards getting some shut eye. Swiftly he stripped of his clothes until he was just in his underwear, setting everything in a neat pile on the nearby desk before moving to get into bed. The scratchy sheets provided warmth despite their discomfort and the pillow was surprisingly plush. 

 

Derek rolled over to blow out the lantern, the orange flame turning into nothing more than a dying ember. Submerged in darkness, except for the slight glow from the moon outside, he was able to close his eyes and sleep.

 

It was never that easy though.

 

Instead of slipping into unconsciousness his mind was wide awake, reeling over pale skin and dexterous hands. The voice belonging to that particular body was on repeat, but instead of snarky words it was just filthy moans and whimpers. His mind was supplying plenty of images of kiss bruised lips and bite marked skin….

 

Derek was going to hell.

 

Opening his eyes he stared at the ceiling, trying his best to ignore the urge to just give in and touch himself. Little Red was a criminal, some deadbeat kid with a bounty over his head, and he was most definitely not about to be the subject of Derek’s pleasure. 

 

For a good while Derek tossed and turned, the sheets rumpled and untucked, and all the while he was doing his best to ignore how hard he was. He lost track of time but at some point his own internal conflict was interrupted by a noise from the other side of the wall. 

 

Brows furrowing in confusion he sat up on his elbows, cocking his head to the left in an attempt to hear better. Though the wall muffled a great deal of it he could make out a whimpering of some sort; the first thing that came to mind was that someone was in distress. Derek got to his feet and haphazardly put his pants back on before exiting his room into the hallway. 

 

The other doors offered silence and most of the lanterns had been blown out, the only few still burning were by the stairs. It gave him enough light to navigate next door and begin to offer help. He pressed his ear to the door trying to get something better to go by, but when he was only met with the same uncomfortable whimpering he decided to knock. 

 

Although he knocked twice nothing came of it. 

 

“Alright then,” Derek sighed, attempting to turn the handle of the door only to find it unlocked much to his surprise. The unlocked door worried him a bit, with most of the town petrified of either him or Little Red it just didn’t make sense. 

 

The knob turned silently and the door opened with a small squeak, exposing a room identical to his own. However the lantern was on, the wic on low so the light was almost too dim to do any good. All too quickly he became aware of what he mistakenly assumed was someone in distress. No; it was all glistening pale skin, needy moans, and Derek was torn between leaving and taking a few more greedy glances. 

 

Of course he went with the latter. 

 

The man was writhing on the mattress, head thrown back to expose the long column of his neck. Derek’s mouth went dry at the sight, his heart jackrabbiting against his ribs. In the dim light he could see the devilish grin on the man’s face.

 

“Is that your big iron or are you just happy to see me?” Little Red teased, his laugh dissolving into moans.

 

Derek felt his breath hitch, shivers running down his spine at the gravely tone in Little Red’s voice. His own eyes cast downwards, knowing it wasn’t his gun, but was taken back by how quickly his body had responded. 

 

“Uh, sorry--I,” Derek started, backing out of the room as quick as he could manage. 

 

He wasn’t quick enough.

 

“ _ Ranger _ ,” Little Red whimpered and that was enough to have him taking a few steps back into the room. Derek’s eyes were fixed on the way his fist moved along his cock, focusing on how the slightest flick of his wrist had him arching with a breathy sigh; Derek moaned at the sight. 

 

With that, the criminal was on his feet and crossing the room. Derek blinked and that was all it took to have Little Red in front of him and pinning him to the door which shut behind him. He ignored how his head smacked against the wood in favor of focusing on the warm naked body pressed against his own. 

 

He let out a pitiful noise as Little Red’s mouth went straight to his neck, teething and sucking on the soft skin there. Immediately his arms wrapped around the small of the man’s back, pressing them closer together. Little Red seemed to appreciate that, rewarding it with a proper kiss.

 

Eyes fluttering shut Derek allowed himself to get lost in it. Little Red kissed like he talked; quick and sharp with no space to breathe. It was more like a battle of teeth and tongue, both fighting for dominance but neither gaining it. His hands ran up and down Little Red’s sides, nails scraping at the smooth skin. As time went on he allowed himself to get bolder with his actions; like biting at Little Red’s lips and allowing his hips to grind against the other man’s.

 

“I gotta admit,” Little Red started as he pulled away, “you’re not as--”

 

Derek let an animalistic noise slip from his lips as he hoisted the younger man into his arms, walking towards the bed, “shut your cock holster.”

 

With that he settled them both onto the bed, the wood creaking under their combined weight. Derek was being shoved against the headboard, and Little Red quickly crawled up to sit on his lap. Once again his face was adorned with that devilish smirk.

 

“Wouldn’t it be better if I did anythin’  _ but  _ shut my  _ cock holster _ ?” Little Red teased, eyebrows wiggling innocently. 

 

Derek rolled his eyes, harshly pinching the man’s thighs in retaliation. Little Red narrowed his eyes, legs flinching away from the painful contact. The man’s deft hands drifted down his bare chest briefly catching on the hair below his navel. Fingers slipped into the waistband of his trousers, a warm palm closing around Derek’s cock. It didn’t take long for his pants to be removed and discarded on to the floor. 

 

The feeling had him gasping, toes curling into the messy sheets below. 

 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, hips snapping up to the touch.

 

Little Red looked smug, and Derek wanted to smack that look off him. Instead he looked around until he spotted a small tin on the bedside table. Grabbing it he unscrewed the lid and dipped his fingers into the oil, rubbing them together so it wasn’t too cold. Little Red may be a criminal but Derek was nothing if not a gentleman. 

 

The hungry look in the young man’s eyes intensified, teeth worrying at his lower lip in anticipation. With his oil covered fingers he traced the other man’s rim, drinking in the visceral reaction. Little Red let out a squeak, body shaking while leaning back into the touch. Derek smirked but it faded as the man on top of him grabbed his cock firmly, stroking it with a steady pace. 

 

“I ain’t no porcelain doll Ranger,” Little Red huffed, “...so  _ fuck me _ like a two dollar whore.”

 

“Don’t let your mouth overload your tail Little Red,” Derek quipped before burying two of his fingers into the other man. 

 

The young man let out a satisfied groan, eyes fluttering closed and head lulling back from the intrusion. Derek leaned in and nipped at the exposed Adam’s apple, moving his fingers to the same rhythm Little Red had going. Before long he felt his stomach clench and his spine tingle with nearing release; meanwhile, he had three fingers in Little Red, reducing the man to a shaking mess. 

 

His skin was blotchy and red, neck thoroughly marked up, and Derek has never seen a better sight. 

 

“Come on, you’re burnin’ daylight,” Little Red hissed.

 

“It’s not even day time,” Derek said under his breath, letting his fingers slip out, pulling the man higher on his lap. Apparently Little Red was more than ready to take the reigns, hastily lifting himself up and onto Derek’s length. It was like all the air in the room vanished, and the rumbling sizzle of arousal turned to a full on flame. 

 

His hands spread across Little Red’s hips, gripping tightly to steady himself. The other man roughly grabbed Derek by the back of the neck, pulling him in for a messy kiss. Derek grunted, he was slightly taken off guard but didn’t hesitate to kiss back. Little Red rocked his hips at a wild pace. 

 

Sounds of skin slapping skin echoed through the room, the window was fogged up now, and the musky smell of sex was thick around them. 

 

“So tight,” Derek bit out, bucking his hips up to meet Little Red’s.

 

“I ain’t puttin’ out for just anyone I see.”

 

“You called yourself a two dollar whore.” 

 

“ _ Shut your cock holster. _ ”

 

Derek rolled his eyes yet again, holding the man close as he lifted them both up, laying Little Red on his back before holding on to the back of his knees, “gladly.” With that he leaned back, positioning his hips rapid fire to appease the criminal below. The man cried out, one hand still gripping his neck and the other tangling in the sheets. Beneath them the bed frame screeched with their movements, headboard smacking against the wall. Little Red tried and failed to form words, reduced to nothing but a babbling mess of slurs and half-baked sentences. 

 

“Fu-huck,” Little Red gasped, the hand that had been tangled in the sheets moved between them now pumping himself. 

 

Derek draped himself over the man, releasing his legs which ended up wrapped around Derek’s waist. His hands wove into chocolate tufts of hair yanking on the strands so their faces met for another brutal kiss. Their pace and urgency intensified, bodies tensing up at the overwhelming pleasure. 

 

“Oh Lord, Oh Lord,  _ Oh Lord _ ,” Little Red wailed, body contorting as he came, his hands flying to Derek’s back only to drag his nails down it for purchase. It was the combined sensations that had him tumble off the edge himself, hips stuttering until coming to a stop.

 

His limbs felt like gelatin but he had enough energy left to roll to the side, separating himself from the man beside him. Little Red was panting, chest decorated in drying come, eyes hooded in the afterglow. 

 

“ _ Ranger _ , ya sure do know your way around the bedroom,” Little Red hummed, arms stretched out above his head. 

 

“A compliment from Little Red? Never thought I’d see the day,” Derek teased, craning his neck to see an uncharacteristically soft look on the man’s face. 

 

“Stiles,” Little Red spoke, “it’s Stiles.” 

 

“Stiles?” Derek asked, the “ _ what the hell kind of name is that? _ ” was implied.

 

This seemed to get a worn laugh from him, as if that question was asked too many times, “my real name is way too hard to pronounce. So I shortened my last name; Stilinski, Stiles, it makes a whole lotta sense.” 

 

Derek sucked in a sharp breath. 

 

“Stilinski? Any relation to….uh, Sheriff John Stilinski?” He asked, looking to Stiles with nervous eyes, unsure of what the answer would be. He watched the young man visibly still, amber eyes owlish in the soft glow of the lantern. For a hot second Derek thought the criminal was going to put a bullet in him for even making the connection. 

Stiles sat up slowly, the purple and red marks across his skin illuminated by the moonlight. There was a grab at trousers and movement towards the window, leaving Derek alone on the bed. 

 

“That would be my Pa.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah,  _ oh _ ,” Stiles chuckled, gaze fixated out the window on the desolate town, “and I reckon if he ever finds me I’ll be in a whole barrel of trouble.” 

 

“I think that’s a safe bet, considering you’ve killed a few people.” 

 

“ _ Crooks _ ,” Stiles corrected, the conviction in his voice enough to get Derek’s attention. 

 

He sat up, pulling on his own trousers to combat the slight draft in the room. Stiles seemed unaffected by it, shoulder even pressed up against the chilled window pane. 

 

“Whaddya mean crooks?” Derek asked.

 

“I mean crooks! Bad people, horrible no-good wrongdoers,” the man snapped, fists clenching and unclenching in anger. “I ain’t no killer, not of those who didn’t deserve it.” 

 

Derek opted to wait; this seemed to strike a nerve with Stiles, he didn’t really feel like pressing it further. The tactic seemed to work because the young man released some of his tension in a long suffering sigh, preparing for what would probably be an explanation.

 

“My Ma died when I was nine; watched these men give her a beatin’,” he spoke, voice raw with emotion, “by the time my dad made it home she was long gone and so were those rotten bastards.”

 

Derek felt his world shift beneath him. All of the theories and motives he cooked up in his head about Little Red on the trip to Agua Fria, this was never one of them. He never thought the drive was because corrupted men killed Stiles’ mother. Now it makes sense why the Sheriff gave this bounty to him, made sense why it was such a high priority. 

 

“I’d rather ya jaw me to death than keep silent back there Ranger,” Stiles huffed, arms crossed against his chest. 

 

Standing up, he crossed the room until he was directly behind Stiles, wrapping his arms around his middle. Derek pressed a feather light kiss to Stiles’ shoulder, causing the man to shiver and his skin to break out into goose bumps. 

 

“I’ll help,” Derek said before adding, “also it’s Derek...you can call me Derek.”

 

“I’m thinkin’ I’ll stick to Ranger.”

 

“Alright then Little Red.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr: @nogitsunelichen  
> Find Hannah on Tumblr: @endgame-sterek
> 
> Please comment and kudos! Thanks for reading.


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